


The Red Notebook

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have a much-needed conversation.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 143





	The Red Notebook

Aside from the bright red cover, the notebook looked perfectly innocuous. It also never ran out of pages, and no matter the years or the mileage, the bright cover never faded.

Crowley claimed he didn't remember who had first bought it, (it was his idea) but the little notebook traveled between the two of them. Crowley could scribble Aziraphale a note and leave it on a park bench, and Aziraphale would wander by just a few minutes later to collect it.

The notes weren't always important. Sometimes it was a shopping list. Sometimes it was a comment on the weather or current events in human politics. Sometimes it was a warning that the other side was up to something.

The advent of the telephone didn't stop them from using of the notebook. Some things were easier said in print than aloud. And besides, the notebook was just for them. Aziraphale had made certain that if anyone else picked it up, it would appear blank.

A time or two they'd found pages written in other hands where someone else had picked up the notebook first, but it always found its way back to the right hands. If Aziraphale or Crowley were to flip back through its pages, they would find evidence of a long friendship and collaboration. Neither of them admitted to occasionally looking back through the pages.

The world had changed in many ways since they'd first started using the notebook. Now there was no other side to warn about. For the time being at least, they were being left alone. 

Crowley was sprawled on Aziraphale's sofa, the notebook in his hands. Aziraphale was out and the shop was closed, but that had never stopped Crowley before and certainly not now. The last thing in the notebook was a time for a dinner meeting two weeks before the apoca-not. Or maybe it was a date. Crowley wasn't sure where the line was anymore.

Aziraphale had always been different. Since they'd stood on Eden's wall together Crowley had found himself unable to escape the angel's orbit. Not that he wanted to. When Aziraphale smiled it was like he could almost hear heaven again.

Most angels were very punchable. Most demons were too, for that matter. With Aziraphale, on the other hand, he wanted to do much, much different things. He didn't know what they would have got up to in Alpha Centauri, but he'd be sincere when he'd asked Aziraphale to run with him. That was what he usually did when things got bad, he ran. Or sometimes took a many-year nap. Unfortunately, the thing he was avoiding was usually still there when he woke up or returned.

Crowley flipped back through the pages, skimming hastily scribbled words, Aziraphale's encouragements, dates, lists, warnings, Crowley's observations, the occasional human hand jotting down a note.

The bell jingled as Aziraphale came into his shop. Crowley sat up quickly, as if he'd been caught at something. "Good afternoon," said Aziraphale politely, clearly distracted.

"What's wrong?" asked Crowley, putting the notebook down.

"Oh nothing. Just had a spot of tea with Madame Tracy. It is a bit different once you've been inside someone's head."

"You've been inside  _ my _ head," pointed out Crowley.

"Yes, I suppose I have," said Aziraphale. He turned his gaze to Crowley. There was something in his eyes that made Crowley want to turn tail and run. Not out of fear of harm, but something far more dangerous.

Crowley swallowed hard, then got up, looking for the nearest bottle of wine. Aziraphale put a hand over Crowley's to stop him from opening the bottle. "Crowley," he said gently.

Crowley wished he was wearing his glasses. Anything to hide from the angel's knowing glance.

"Yeah?" said Crowley, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

Aziraphale looked at him a moment longer, then walked over to the sofa and picked up the notebook.

Crowley's natural curiosity kept him in place as he watched Aziraphale write.

When he finished, Aziraphale looked down at his own words a moment longer, then closed the notebook and walked over to Crowley, handing it to him silently before heading into the maze of shelves.

Crowley's throat was dry as he opened the notebook and looked down at the last page. There, in Aziraphale's neatest handwriting, were four simple words.  _ I love you, too. _

The world shifted. Crowley sat down heavily on the floor. Apparently he'd made a bit of racket, because Aziraphale appeared a moment later, looking worried. He fidgeted with his hands, clearly uncertain what to say.

Crowley swallowed hard and looked up at him. "You’re an angel," he said.

"Yes," said Aziraphale with a frown. "And?"

"Well, you can't love me. I'm a demon. Damned to hell and all that. Fallen."

"You're still one of Her creations." Aziraphale moved towards him cautiously, as if afraid of spooking him. He sank down to his knees so they were eye level. "And it has been true a very long time."

Cautiously, Crowley leaned closer to him. "How... how long have you known?" he asked.

Aziraphale gave him an indulgent smile. "I can sense love."

Crowley's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You never said... with me..."

"Well, neither did you," said Aziraphale.

"We're a couple of idiots, aren't we?" asked Crowley.

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him gently. Crowley sighed into the kiss.  _ Perfect _ .

The notebook slipped to the floor as they moved closer together. This wasn't the start of something new, this was acknowledging a truth nearly as ancient as the universe. Crowley had no idea what would happen next, but for once, he wasn't afraid. Because they would face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to theartstudentyouhate for the prompt and reading along.


End file.
